Max and Dylan having kids? Fang's POV
by cherryblaster
Summary: This is Fang's point of view when he finds out that Max and Dylan are supposed to go to Germany and have kids together. Oneshot.


**A/N- I know nobody reads these, but I'll do one anyways. This is my very first fanfic, so reviews are always appreciated. I'm tough, I can take criticism, but no flames please! This is Fang's POV when he finds out that Max and Dylan are supposed to go to Germany and have kids. It takes place during Angel. R&R! Thanks.**

Fang's POV:

I felt relaxed. The fl- _Max's_ flock and _my_ gang were getting along pretty well. Better than I had thought. The only thing bugging me was how Max and I were getting along. The girl I used to be able to tell _everything_ to, the first girl I had kissed, the first girl I had _loved_ was acting like we were mortal enemies or something. I hated that we were acting like this, but I had way too much pride to be the first to say sorry. I mean, I bet I should, since it was technically my fault that she was so mad at me, but it was her fault that she was too thick-headed to realize that this was all for her own good.

So, back to the plane ride. It was going really well. Almost like…almost like the old times. Gazzy was challenging everyone to a game of poker while babbling about Francium, an element that I hope _never_ ends up in his hands; Nudge was reading a fashion magazine; Angel was reading a book; Iggy was listening to his iPod; and Max was nodding off. God, she was beautiful. I imagined what it would be like to run my fingers through that hair _one last time_ or kiss those lips…Damn stupid hormones. In my gang, Maya was just chilling, Ratchet was hitting on Kate and Star was glaring out at the world. Perfectly normal. The only thing that was out of place was that god dammed Dylan and his stupid "I have to be with Max" gene. Just then, I heard Gazzy say,

"Yeah, and so Max and Dylan are supposed to, like, go to Germany and have kids together."

I felt like my insides were turned to ice.

"_What?_" I said incredulously.

This was worse than hearing Angel say that I would be the first to die. This was worse than getting clawed apart by an Eraser. This was worse than… anything I've ever gone through in my entire life, except for maybe leaving Max. All I could hear was the roaring in my ears. _Do not kill, do not kill_ I chanted in my head. Dimly, I heard Max freaking out at Gazzy for telling me, and that was just one more knife stabbing into my heart. Did she plan on just keeping this a secret from me? Did she plan on going off to Germany and having kids with that son of a bitch that called himself Dylan without ever letting me know? _Do not kill, do not kill. _

"Go off and have kids?" I demanded, just to make sure I'd heard right.

"Yeah" Dylan said, looking for all the world like he was commenting on the weather.

I couldn't believe this. Did the white-coats drop Dylan on his head when he was younger or something?

"Oh, please. I can't even keep a goldfish alive." Max said.

Didn't she know that the issue wasn't about the kid? The issue was that she and Dylan were going to go off and _have sex_ together in freaking Germany! I mean, her and Dylan? He'd only known her for, what? A few months? I'd known her all my life! And now she was supposed to do, what? Have sex with practically a complete stranger? What the hell?

"You and Dylan?" I asked, "Having kids?"

This was not happening, this was not happening. I wondered briefly if I could get some of that Francium that Gazzy was talking about earlier and shove it down Dylan's throat.

"Don't look at me-it was Han's idea." Max protested.

Okay…like that was any consolation! I _knew_ that Max wouldn't go voluntarily gave little baby-mutants, but what if Dr. God wanted her to? Who knew what lengths that crazy doer-of-evil would go to ensure that everything went his way?

Meanwhile, Dylan was sitting there, stretching and cracking his knuckles. _Do not kill, do not kill_. How could that freak be so calm about this? I felt like my head was about to blow off and he was cracking his knuckles? In my head, I mapped out about 23 different ways to gravely injure Dylan, one of which included a monkey, a flamethrower and tofu turkey. Wait. There was a more pressing matter at hand.

"You didn't think to mention this to me?" I demanded. How could she?

"When was I supposed to tell you?" Max said, in the coldest voice I had ever heard her use. "When you told me not to look for you? When you told me not to contact you? When you told me to forget about you?"

Well, _damn._ There wasn't really anything to say to that. I had told her to forget about me, but that didn't mean to turn right around and suck face with _Dylan!_ Heck, if this plan panned out, they would be doing a lot more than just sucking face. Hold it-_had_ they kissed? I hoped to God that the answer was no.

I ran my hand through my hair, and wondered absently if the windows of the jet were strong enough to not shatter if I punched them.

The next few days were going to be hell.


End file.
